


A Love Worth Living For

by HardNoctLife



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Love Confessions, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Post-Dawn, Rescue Missions, Torture, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28292871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/pseuds/HardNoctLife
Summary: “You really trust me the most?”“To protect me, yeah.” But Noctis wouldn’t meet his eye, hands gripping his knees as if to keep from touching anything—or anyone.“Huh.” Gladio chuckled knowingly. “Didn’t see that coming.”--After Ardyn is defeated, Gladio is appointed as the High Commander of Lucis by King Noctis. Unfortunately, his first mission doesn't go as smoothly as planned.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	A Love Worth Living For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Godspoison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godspoison/gifts).



> We had a Secret Santa in my Discord server, and I got Poi! <3 Hope you like it, my friend.

Get in, get out. That had been the plan. Simple, yet effective.

But Gladio knew better than most that things didn’t always go as planned.

There was no way of knowing what had become of Niflheim during the Long Night, and Gladio told his troops to be on high alert.

“Never let your guard down,” he’d said.

“Yes, Commander, sir!”

Gladio still wasn’t used to the new title. It had always been, ‘Future Shield’ this, and ‘Little Shield’ that. But Noctis had insisted...

* * *

“Who _else_ is going to run my military now that I’m officially King?”

“Uh… the Marshal?” Gladio said as if it were the obvious answer. That’s because it _was_ the obvious answer, at least in his mind.

Noctis snorted. “Nah, he’s too old now. Besides…”

Gladio turned away from where he was leaning against the railing of Noctis’s balcony, giving the King his full attention. Noctis was sitting on the edge of his four-post bed, fidgeting with the golden clasp of his capelet. Eventually, he gave up, flinging it off his shoulders and onto the floor.

“I trust you most,” he finished, glaring at the crumpled fabric as if it were a daemon he needed to defeat.

Gladio raised an eyebrow. As he wandered over, he scooped the article of clothing off the floor. “More than Iggy?” he asked, draping the capelet on the back of a nearby chair.

“Specs is my advisor. Totally different.”

“I don’t see how.” Gladio sat beside Noctis. Their knees bumped together as he shouldered into him lightly. “You _really_ trust me the most?”

“To protect me, yeah.” But Noctis wouldn’t meet his eye, hands gripping his knees as if to keep from touching anything—or anyone.

“Huh.” Gladio chuckled knowingly. “Didn’t see that coming.”

Scowling, Noctis shoved him, and Gladio used the momentum to flop onto his back with a laugh.

A moment later, Noctis was pressed to Gladio’s side. Without thinking, Gladio wrapped an arm around him and hugged him tightly.

Neither of them liked to use words to express their feelings, but this? This felt _right._

The long pause that followed filled rapidly with everything that was unspoken between them. Years of emotional buildup had finally come to its climax after defeating Ardyn and saving the world from the Scourge. Gladio felt it was finally the time to confess how he felt. How _they_ felt. But he could tell Noctis wasn’t ready. He was still getting the hang of being King.

As the silence dragged, Noctis fidgeted.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Gladio decided. It wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but it would have to do for now.

“Huh?” Noctis blinked up at him.

“I’ll be your High Commander.”

“Really?” Noctis sounded relieved, melting into the mattress as the jagged edges of his body smoothed.

“Yeah, sure,” Gladio agreed. After a beat, he smirked. “But only if you call me ‘sir.’”

“Pfft.” Noctis shoved him again, more gently this time. “In your dreams.”

* * *

The clanging of a metal door shook Gladio free from his reminiscing.

It was difficult to see who was approaching, his vision blurry from the amount of swelling in his face and the dried blood that clumped to his eyelashes. He had his suspicions though.

It had to be the same man who had captured Gladio after he had rescued one of the Lucian platoons from an Imperial ambush. Gladio had managed to cut through two Magitek armor units and was rounding on a squadron of MTs when the electrically charged net had dropped from above, knocking him out.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up handcuffed to a chair in an empty cell, a man in a white coat with an Imperial crest on the front of it and slicked-back blond hair staring him down.

Gladio’s captor had asked for information on the Lucian military and Insomnia that Gladio wasn’t willing to give.

And so, the torture began.

* * *

“Good morning, Mr. Amicitia,” a melodic voice greeted. Gladio drew upon memory to picture the man’s cruel smile.

“That’s High Commander to you,” Gladio rasped, shifting in the uncomfortable chair he was still chained to. He curled and uncurled his fingers, swollen from the tight restraints. Footsteps grew louder, a silhouette of a man sliding into his periphery.

“Are you ready to talk now, or shall we resume where we left off?”

Gladio’s broken ribs screamed every time he took a breath, but he forced a laugh anyway. “Have at it. You should know—” he gasped, “I like it rough.”

Cold fingers gripped Gladio’s hair, yanking his head back so that specks of light swam in his limited field of vision.

“Tell us where the other soldiers are located and maybe we will show them mercy when we find them,” the man hissed impatiently.

Swallowing down bile, Gladio grimaced. “Hair pulling? Kinky.”

“Tch.” The man released his hold on Gladio roughly. “Very well.”

There was rustling followed by the clanking of something heavy. Gladio wondered if the man was going to take a hammer to his ribs again. Then, he heard a crackle of electricity.

 _Shit_.

“Last chance to change your mind.”

Gladio could feel the hair on his arm stand up as something came to hover over them. He took a deep breath, ignoring the twinge it sent through his chest.

“Do your worst,” he growled.

The crackling got louder— _closer_. Gladio closed his eyes and prayed.

* * *

Noctis paced back and forth along the raised dais in the throne room, too anxious to sit. When the doors were thrown open, he didn’t wait to see who it was. He dashed down the stairs, fully expecting Ignis to be there.

Ignis was flanked by two Kingsglaive, his face grim.

“Any news?” Noctis blurted, forgoing all formalities. Ignis’s hesitation told Noctis that it wasn’t good, but he dared to hope.

Gladio was okay. He _had_ to be.

“We have received reports that our troops in Gralea were ambushed. Though they narrowly escaped...” Ignis’s gaze dropped to the floor, and Noctis’s stomach dropped along with it.

“What? What is it?” he demanded, barely resisting the urge to shake Ignis.

“High Commander Amicitia was captured.”

Noctis felt his heart jump into his throat, where it lodged itself painfully. “Gladio. Is he…?”

Noctis swallowed hard, unable to bring himself to say the words. _He can’t be. No way._

“Unfortunately, we were unable to confirm his whereabouts, however, a reconnaissance team has been deployed to locate him. As soon as we receive _any_ word, Your Majesty, I will update you directly.”

Feeling his stomach clench with fear, Noctis turned away from Ignis, thoughts racing. “Ignis.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“You’re not going to like this, but… I have to go. I have to bring him back.”

“Ah.” There was a heavy sigh. “I thought you might say that. Lucky for you, I took the liberty of having an airship prepared, just in case.” Turning back to Ignis abruptly, Noctis stared in disbelief. Despite the poise he wore so naturally, Ignis managed to look sheepish. “Prompto and I are ready to leave at a moment’s notice should you require our assistance—” Abruptly, Noctis darted forward, crushing Ignis in a hug. “Oof!”

“Yeah,” Noctis said shakily. “Yeah, let’s go.” His voice thickened with emotion. He didn’t trust himself to say anything more.

With Ignis, Noctis knew he didn’t have to.

* * *

Gladio was so damn thirsty. And _fuck_ , the burnt flesh on his arms and stomach itched something awful, but he had no good way to scratch it. He was afraid that if he tried to scoot his chair closer to the wall that it would tip over, and judging by how the room spun while he was sitting still, Gladio couldn’t risk another hit to the head.

“Tell me where they are.”

It seemed like Gladio’s tormentor was back. Gladio hadn’t even heard him come in. He squinted, still only able to make out vague shapes.

“Fuck off,” Gladio grumbled, licking his cracked lips only to taste dried blood.

“Tell me where they are, or else!” the man threatened.

When Gladio tried to speak again, he coughed, spitting up blood. _Ugh_. “Fuck. Off.”

Suddenly, there was pressure over Gladio’s index finger, something hard and metallic pinching his knuckle. “I will break your fingers one by one, and then I’ll move on to other body parts. Is that what you want?”

 _Gods, this guy is like a broken record._ Mustering up what little strength he had, Gladio lifted his head, glaring up into what he hoped was the man’s eyes.

“Go ahead. Break every one. I still won’t give ‘em up.”

The pressure around his finger intensified, and Gladio inhaled sharply, mentally preparing for what was going to happen next, but a bang on the door startled both of them. Whatever instrument Gladio’s tormentor was using clattered to the floor.

“I thought I told you to knock!”

A timid voice rang out in reply. “Sir, sorry, sir! Just thought you should know we captured another one.”

 _Shit_.

“Hmph.” Gladio could almost hear the wheels turning in the Nif’s head. “Very good. Maybe this one will be more cooperative than Mr. Amicitia.”

Two sets of footsteps retreated. A door slammed.

“That’s… High Commander… to you,” Gladio panted.

The room went dark.

* * *

“The Director said the Lucian spy they captured squealed like a pig.”

“Huh. So what do you think he’ll do with this guy then?”

“Hell if I know. Maybe he’ll give him to us for target practice.”

“You hear that, _Commander_? Your days are numbered!”

“Hey, is he already dead?”

“No, he’s still breathing, I checked.”

“Fuck. Guy can take a beating, can’t he?”

“Yeah, you got that right. Hope he lives long enough to see the second fall of Insomnia.”

* * *

Cold water splashed on Gladio’s face, waking him. His eyes fluttered open, mouth too sore to even gasp.

The Director was watching him, his white uniform freshly pressed, not a speck of dirt to be found on him. Gladio wished he was still bleeding from his mouth so he could spit all over it.

“Good, you’re not dead yet,” the man said.

“I thought I told you to fuck off?” Gladio barked, his voice gravelly. Probably from all the screaming. He swallowed painfully but it did nothing to soothe the rawness of his throat.

_Wish he’d just kill me already._

“Oh, I have a feeling you’ll want to hear this.” The man smiled, and this time it sent a chill down Gladio’s spine. He had the look of someone who knew he had already won.

Taking a few steps closer, the Director crouched down so he and Gladio were eye-to-eye. “You see, your compatriat was kind enough to share how your messages are encoded.” Gladio waited, watching the man with bated breath. “With his help, we were able to pick up an incoming transmission from an approaching airship.” The Director straightened, his smug look unwavering. “Your King is on his way here as we speak, soon to be delivered into our hands on a silver platter.”

It took all of Gladio’s willpower not to react to the Director’s news. He knew that the man was trying to get a rise out of him, looking for something— _anything_ —he could use as leverage. For all Gladio knew, he could be lying about Noctis. In fact, he would bet money on it.

There was no way Noctis would take such a significant risk. Besides, even if he wanted to, Ignis would never allow him to leave Insomnia and put their rebuilding efforts in jeopardy.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” The Director laughed. “Of course, we didn’t either. Only a complete idiot would send the last remaining member of their royal family into enemy territory. Fortunately, your comrade was able to confirm it was indeed Noctis Lucis Caelum himself. And better yet, he is here looking for _you_.”

_No_.

_No way._

_He wouldn’t be that stupid._ Ignis _wouldn’t be that stupid!_

 _Unless…_ Gladio closed his eyes, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“That dumbass,” he muttered.

The response seemed to embolden the Director. He took Gladio by the chin, tilting his head up so that Gladio had no choice but to look at him.

“You are going to help us lure your King here.”

Though his options were few, Gladio knew he had to ask. “And if I refuse?” He watched the Director’s smile transform into a devilish grin.

“Then we will shoot the airship out of the sky.”

* * *

Gladio glanced down at the microphone that the Director’s attendant had placed on the table in front of him, then to the two armed guards standing on either side of the now-locked door.

The two men were small and stocky, and he bet he could easily overpower them—if he could somehow break free of his restraints.

“How do I know you’re not gonna kill me as soon as I’m done?” Gladio wondered.

The Director waved away the question as if it were a fly buzzing around his head. “Any good strategist knows you should always have a back-up plan. It would be foolish to throw away my best bargaining chip. Rest assured, you haven’t outlived your usefulness yet.”

It wasn’t the most comforting of answers, and Gladio didn’t like being reduced to a simple ‘bargaining chip’, but it told him that he had more time than he initially thought. He only hoped it would be enough.

The radio system the microphone was attached to suddenly crackled to life. Gladio took a deep breath, remembering the Director’s instructions. Any deviation from the script would cause the Nifs to launch a ballistic barrage on the royal airship. Though Gladio suspected his captors would rather take Noctis alive, the Director didn’t seem like the type to make empty bluffs, and Gladio wasn’t about to risk Noctis’s life to find out if he was lying, so he’d play along—for now.

A red light clicked on at the base of the microphone, and the Director nodded silently in Gladio’s direction.

_It’s showtime._

“Calling all units, all units respond. This is Red Eagle, calling all units. Anybody out there?”

Part of Gladio hoped no one would answer. That somehow whoever was listening would instinctively know that this had to be a trap. But then, there was a pop from the speakers.

“Gladio, is that you?!”

Hearing Prompto’s voice made Gladio’s hopes soar. He took a ragged breath, trying to calm his nerves.

“Prompto?”

“Oh, gods, it’s so good to hear your voice, big guy! Where are you?”

_Stay focused. You can do this._

“Not sure. I got separated—there was an ambush. I barely made it out. Now I’m hunkered down near some facility, but it’s crawling with Nifs.”

The Director snorted at the commonly used slur. Gladio ignored him.

“No problem, I’m gonna try and trace your signal, just hang tight, okay?”

“Got it. Thanks, Prompto.”

The silence that followed was maddening. A few seconds felt like an hour. Finally, there was a crackle of activity, a new sound emerging from the static.

“Gladio, you there?”

When Noctis’s voice rang out, it was like a punch in the gut that rendered Gladio breathless. He paused for too long, and it took a kick to the shin from the Director to jolt him into action.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.” Knowing that they’d both be killed instantly was the only thing that kept Gladio from shouting out a warning.

“What the hell took you so long?” The irritation in Noctis’s voice would have started an argument on any other day, but Gladio was too relieved to hear his voice care.

“Got a little tied up.” It was true enough. “Guess I’m not cut out for this High Commander shit after all.” He tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough, sending aches and pains through his abdomen. Noctis didn’t seem to notice.

“You can say that again. Your ass is getting demoted as soon as we get back.”

 _As soon as we get back_. Gods, that was all Gladio wanted.

“I got it!” Prompto yelled in the background. “Don’t move, Gladio, we’re on our way!”

_Couldn’t even if I wanted to._

Gladio felt the Director’s eyes on him. It was time to wrap up the call.

“You really had us worried, y’know.” Noctis’s tone changed, softening. Something pulled tight through Gladio’s chest at the sound of it.

There was so much that Gladio wished he could say.

“...Sorry.”

Noctis sighed. “Is that all?”

The circumstances couldn’t have been worse, but Gladio was keenly aware that if he didn’t do it now, he might not get another chance. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to leave anything unsaid.

“Actually, Noct, I’ve been meaning to get this off my chest, but...I love you.”

The Director folded his arms in disapproval, before motioning to one of the guards. There was a long pause. So long that Gladio thought the line had dropped.

Finally, Noctis hissed, “What the _fuck_ , Gladio?!”

“I said—” The Director leaned forward, fumbling for the off button, but Gladio used his body to shield him from it. “--I _love_ you, Noct. Always have. Always will.” Desperation rose inside him like a tidal wave. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“ _Gladio_ —”

As the soldier hit Gladio in the head with the butt of his rifle, Noctis’s voice abruptly cut out.

The room spun, fading to black.

* * *

“Once the king is captured, that’s it. Lucis will fall like a deck of cards, Insomnia with it.”

“About fucking time. I’m so tired of living in the shadows. I’m ready for the Empire to take control again.”

“Same here. Time to finish what we started.”

“Hell yeah!”

“ _Hey_! You two there! You’re needed at the front entrance, on the double!”

“What, something happen?”

“Are you fucking deaf? Can’t you hear those sirens?! Now get a move on!”

“...”

“What a fucking pain in the ass.”

“Someone probably tripped the alarm again.”

“Probably. C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Gladio was vaguely aware of an explosion. Aware of it in the same way that people sometimes think that dreams are real. He heard the boom and the shouts, and felt the tremors, but his body was heavy, and his mind listless, floating in space. Nothing that was happening outside his cell mattered. Soon, it would all be over.

“Gladio, are you ready to come home?”

It was his father’s voice, speaking calmly in his ear. There was a gentle pressure on his shoulder, the weight of a familiar hand.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to rest, godsdamnit.

“Do you have any regrets?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer. There was a heaviness in his chest that was crushing him, making his breaths uneven.

_Dad?_

“Yes, my son?”

_Where am I?_

There was no answer. The tremors were growing stronger, rattling through Gladio’s ribcage, squeezing the remaining air from his lungs.

Everything burned.

A voice echoed from far away.

“Gladio? Gladio!”

_Dad?_

“Guys, he’s over here!”

There was the sound of rolling thunder and a bright flash of white behind Gladio’s eyelids.

Then, darkness took hold again.

* * *

Gladio could tell something was different. He felt light, good. _Relaxed_ , even.

 _Must be dead,_ he mused.

But then there was the sound of a door opening and closing, and when his eyes slid open, he was staring up at a familiar dark canopy, its edges outlined in gold, with the Lucian crest smack-dab in the center.

He was in Noctis’s bed.

“You know, if you weren’t almost dead when we found you, I would have killed you.”

The voice floated towards him. When Gladio turned his head, he saw Noctis taking a seat in the high backed chair at the bedside. He was in his Kingly Raiment, with the capelet appropriately fastened for once.

He looked regal and somber. It wasn’t something Gladio was accustomed to.

“...the others?” Gladio dared to ask.

“Everyone on our airship made it out. Can’t say the same for those in the research facility we found you in.”

Noctis crossed one leg over the other, gazing past Gladio to the open window beyond. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow throughout the room.

As he struggled to sit up, Gladio found he was only in his underwear, faded bruises covering every inch of visible skin. He didn’t even want to know how many potions it had taken to put him back together again.

No wonder Noctis looked so serious.

“Remnants of Aldercapt’s military research division is what Specs said. We managed to destroy most of the weapons they had stockpiled... with Ramuh’s help.” That explained the flashes of light and the quakes, at least. Noctis’s gaze dropped to his hands, which curled into fists on the chair’s armrests. “You’re lucky you made it out alive.”

“How’d you know it was a setup?” Gladio asked, curious.

Noctis’s laugh was mirthless. “No way you would have told me you loved me if you didn’t think you were gonna die.”

The accusation stung a little, but Gladio accepted it without protest.

They listened to the distant sounds of construction on the city street below, neither one speaking for a long moment.

“I meant it, though,” Gladio claimed.

Noctis finally lifted his head, and Gladio was surprised to find there were tears in his eyes.

With his throat tight with emotion, Gladio extended a hand to Noctis. Slowly, carefully, Noctis grabbed it in one of his own, squeezing fiercely.

Meeting Noctis’s gaze, Gladio spoke the words with conviction. “I love you.”

A shaky laugh tumbled from Noctis’s lips. A tear fell, then another. “You’re such an idiot.”

Though his body still ached, Gladio tugged Noctis out of the chair and onto the bed, wrapping him in his arms. If he had his way, he wouldn’t be letting the King go anytime soon.

“I love you,” Gladio repeated, burying the words into the nape of Noctis’s neck before brushing his lips over cheek. He tasted salt on his tongue as he kissed away the King’s tears. “I love you more than life itself.”

Noctis, pressing his forehead to Gladio’s, inhaled sharply, rubbing at his eyes. “I know. I love you, too.” He pushed Gladio away so he could give him a disapproving look. “But you better not go dying on me anytime soon.”

“Deal,” Gladio chuckled.

It was a promise he intended to keep.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter @HardNoctLife or tumblr @hard-noct-life


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